In August 1944 Kathleen Oates - a Wren assigned to the Women's Royal Naval Service during the Second World War - was transferred to the Isle of Man. During her time on the island, she wrote dozens of letters to home which provide a unique commentary on the operations at Ronaldsway and what life was like on the Isle of Man 80 years ago. Her daughter, CHRISTINE SMITH, pores through her mother’s letters as part of a series of columns based on Kathleen Oates’s writing...
This week, eighty years ago, the sun had come out and all was much rosier in the world of Wren Kathleen Oates. She now had her bicycle issued and her ‘bells,’ the bell-bottom trousers she requested be sent from home. This all resulted in a letter very different in tone from the previous one. She could continue to explore the island with more freedom, and she was starting to find aspects of her work appealing.
On August 31, she cycled to Port St Mary and Port Erin. Tea was had at Port St Mary: ‘The café hadn’t eggs, but I had plenty of jam and toast, prunes and apples and raisins with cream and two cakes for 1/7d - the tea itself is really lovely – I always feel full after.’ Then on to Port Erin ‘to gaze at the sea again,’ before returning by 7:15 p.m. to see San Demetrio at the camp cinema. This also met with approval: ‘An excellent film, very well worth seeing!’
Kathleen began writing this letter on the sunny afternoon of September 1, from the rocks at Langness Peninsula. ‘From where I’m sitting now, I can hear the planes “revving up,” as it is called – then they’ll taxi out down the perimeter track and so on to the runway, to start the afternoon’s exercise... The sea’s a lovely bluey-green today – looks wonderful! It’s pretty misty all around – perhaps that foretells warm weather.’ She had finished duty at 12:30 p.m. and was taking advantage of free time before work began again at 7:30 p.m. for night flying.
The next day was Saturday: ‘It’s a general “Make Do and Mend” for everyone on the airfield.’ As so often, Kathleen planned to use this time for a different activity and had plans to go to Peel with ‘the Janes’ – two Wrens in her friendship circle with the same name, who would be often referred to in her letters home. Kathleen was looking forward to this outing: ‘They say it’s the chief fishing port here, so there may be some activity in the harbour.’
Only a reflection on the past week’s shopping trip to Douglas could mar the overall feeling of approval of her surroundings: ‘We wandered round the few small shops that there are (after visiting the YMCA for coffee) trying to buy fully fashioned stockings – an impossibility! All the assistants seemed terribly dozy and I thought that the Isle of Man in general needed a little dynamite behind it! We wandered round the harbour and chatted for about 20 minutes to one of the sailors on a Coaster – he’d been in at “Gladstone” [the Liverpool dock where Kathleen had so enjoyed working the year before], so we had something in common! To me, it seemed grand to talk to someone on a ship again – even a Merchant Navy vessel. We nearly had tea on board, but he said it was so dirty that he couldn’t invite us on. I shan’t feel really at home again before I set foot on deck – strange, isn’t it?’
Ballasalla camp was not only providing friends, but some home comforts were now to be enjoyed nearby. ‘A YW & YM (Young Women’s and Young Men’s Christian Association – YWCA/YMCA) opened last week – it’s really a lovely place. Big coal fires – oak beams – chintz curtains, armchairs – a canteen, etc. – and different quiet rooms for the men and women – ‘twill be appreciated this winter.’ This would be especially enjoyed as the camp was still fairly rudimentary: ‘There are no good facilities for writing on the camp. There are no tables in our hut; there are some in the miserable little rec., so I’ll pay a visit there one evening.’
Kathleen liked the cabin itself: ‘These Nissen huts are quite comfy, and the girls in this one have worked hard to make it homely. They’ve decorated all the ‘blackout’ curtains with braid, made cushions for the chairs, flowers all round – very nice, in fact.’
Not only was the Isle of Man contributing to Kathleen’s good mood as she explored and discovered more facilities, but she was happier at work, although she was still adjusting to a new atmosphere. She found the navy officers stationed on the Isle of Man different from those she had encountered in Liverpool. ‘The FAA [Fleet Air Arm] is different from the Navy – somehow there’s not the same spirit – or so it seems to me – perhaps that it’s just that I’m missing the background of ships. Even the Officers are different – they’re much more casual and less “snooty” – I suppose that’s better really, but it’s not what I’m used to... The few trainees who are learning to fly look like England’s last hope – the remnants of the call-up, I suppose. Lt Whiteaker’s grand to work with – he’s resting after 4 years of Ops – but even he leaves in October. Both Wren Officers are decent – we don’t treat them as officers, so I’ve really not a lot to grumble about.’
Proof of this collaborative atmosphere was seen when she added to the letter on September 6, prior to another night flying session: “I have just ordered some sandwiches for night flying this evening. One of the Subbys [subaltern, junior officer] is going to get some from the wardroom, and then we’ll pool resources.” Her trousers and bike made life easier: ‘I wear my “bells and navy shirts’ for night duty – the slacks are nice & warm for cycling back at night. Sometimes there’s transport, but it isn’t a regular thing.” And far from having her plotting duties taken away from her, Kathleen was anticipating the arrival of another Plotting Wren with whom she would do watches – so things were looking up.
She announced that an unneeded towel (they had been issued with them) was coming in the post along with cigarettes for her father (’my ration at 1/6d’): the most unlikely items were regularly posted to and from Kathleen’s camp and the family home in New Park Street, Leicester. She spared a fond thought for them: ‘I wonder what you’re all doing this afternoon – Pop in the armchair, Mum sewing, Granny having 40 winks & [sister] Dot working hard – am I right?’. As her father owned and ran a fish & chip shop, it seems that he could rest before customers came in the evening.
Kathleen finished the letter on a contented note: ‘There’s no-one in the cabin at the moment, so I’ve switched on the radio – it’s grand having one. It’s about 12” x 9” & belongs to one of the girls.’ She told the family that she had bought a guide to Castletown – ‘It’s a charming little place, especially the harbour and castle’ – surely a sign of feeling more settled.